"Drop your pants Zoe"
"No, am scared"
"You will love it, trust me"
"Aa aa aa am scared"
"Look into my eyes, Zoe"
"Okay, be gentle"
It's the deafening sound of silence
Tickling the ghost of her past
She hears a sea laughters
Wave after waver, laughter after laughter
She hears a council of drums;
Drumsticks, the skeletons of her closet
She hears the phantom crunch of footsteps
Foot after foot, moon walks on the gaunt floor of her psyche
Dance after dance, dust after dust
Banshees hum lullabies; weredogs sway her cradle
Her neck is failing, the weight on her head is pressing
Reins are taut and insanity rides the chariots of sanity
A salvo of dragonballs roast her neurons; her mind is an apocalypse
She grabs her head in disguise and wails off her trance.
Her howl strikes a match, scare away the ghost.
She looks around, hoping no eye bears witness
Her silence, her death, her noise, her breath
Her grace, emotive;
That's why she's talkative
That's why she's hyperactive
She laughs to dead jokes and her lungs slave in their cage of ribs
Harass not but embrace her.
Copyright © Kunda Chamatete | Year Posted 2016
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